


My Eyes Went Dark

by deckersqueen



Series: A Last Breath [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Character Analysis, Heavy Angst, I do be sad tho, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Just my POV, Last Moments, One Shot, Regret, Self-Hatred, Third-person, Torture, secondary character, this one isn't thattt graphic but i put the warning 'cause yk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deckersqueen/pseuds/deckersqueen
Summary: Rufus Scrimgeour had made many mistakes in his life, but this would not be one of them. If he died, he would make sure the boy lived.An analysis of Rufus Scrimgeour’s last moments.
Series: A Last Breath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733635
Kudos: 17





	My Eyes Went Dark

>   
>  'Arthur heard a rumour that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it’s true, he didn’t give you away.’ Harry looked at Ron and Hermione; their expressions reflected the mingled shock and gratitude he felt. He had never liked Scrimgeour much, but if what Lupin said was true, the man’s final act had been to try to protect Harry.  
> 

The ground was cold on his aching face. He never often looked at the floor, for Rufus Scrimgeour had much better things to do as the Minister of Magic, but now that he was so close, he couldn’t help but notice the layer of dust that coated the entire surface. He really ought to clean it sometime, he thought, although the rational side of him knew that he’d likely never get the chance.

Even through his pounding head, he could hear their voices, although it sounded to Rufus like he was underwater. A classic symptom of a brain hemorrhage — he actually did listen during his first aid lessons, way back when. This fact would have worried him more if the circumstances were different, but considering the fact he couldn’t even feel his legs, he thought he had bigger problems. 

He felt the vibrations of footsteps before he felt the rough hand on his neck, and had a brief second to ready himself before a wave of blinding pain hit him. He tasted iron, and Rufus saw Yaxley’s face loom over him before he was pulled painfully to his feet and thrown on his office chair. Rufus realized Yaxley was speaking to him only after the man cuffed him sharply on his forehead.

His words weren’t hard to hear even with Rufus’s probable brain damage, as he was yelling so fiercely spit was flying in Rufus’s face.

‘Where. Is. Potter!’ He roared. 

Rufus didn’t raise his head. He had experience on both sides of the table, as he had been both the interrogator and the interrogatee back in the day, and he knew men like Yaxley didn’t have the patience to try and cajole information out of their victims. Which, quite honestly, was good, because Rufus didn’t think that he had enough fight left after an hour of torture to stay silent. He was done. There wasn’t anything left for him to do — he had failed. He had failed the Ministry, he had failed Britain, and most painfully, he had failed his friends. Amelia Bones. Alastor Moody. John Proudfoot. Ian Braxton. All of them dead. And who knew how many more had been killed when the Deatheaters invaded the Ministry today? 

No, he thought wryly, not invaded — they were already there, in the heart of the Ministry, just waiting. All because of him. Because he was stupid, and weak, and naive. Amelia would be rolling in her grave, Rufus thought bitterly. He was disgusted with himself. 

But there was hope yet, he realized; he hadn’t completely failed yet. The boy was alive, safe and with the Weasleys. As long as Potter stayed alive, there was hope, and that gave Rufus hope as well. If there was once thing he could still do yet, that was protect Potter with his silence, even if it meant death. It was too late for John and Alastor and Amelia and Ian and all the other friends whose blood stained his calloused hands, but it was not too late for the boy, and it was not too late for Rufus to do one last good thing. He could do this. He had to do this. For that stubborn, stupidly fierce boy who would save them all.

And with that thought, Rufus raised his head, and spat in Yaxley’s face. He watched with a shread of pride as Yaxley’s face contorted with fury. 

If he was going to go down, he would go down fighting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. This is just a quick one-shot, since I found Scrimgeour to be a fascinating character, especially when he died rather than give up Harry to the Deatheaters, despite their dislike of each other. Anyways, I really wanted to explore his last moments, and what might have been going through his head. Feel free to flame, I’m new to writing.


End file.
